The Department of Truth

The Department of Truth

by James D Connolly
The Department of Truth

The Department of Truth

by James D Connolly

Paperback(This Is the First Book of the Department of Truth Trilogy, Followed by Expectations of Happiness and ed.)

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Overview

Jack Johnston is an ordinary bloke with a seemingly ordinary life--until the day he feels a jolt, sees a bright light, and hears the words: The Department of Truth. He finds himself suddenly propelled on a mystical roller coaster ride through unfamiliar and magical landscapes, and begins to learn about life, people, and his own personal longings.

This young man while wandering in strange lands meets different kinds of people, each with their own unique cultures and views of life. Jack also visits deeper realities where he explores the human condition, his own thought processes, and the path to faith, which challenge him to learn and grow.

Join Jack on his existential ride through life, and the poignant tale of his search, with giants, talking doorways, new worlds, magic carpets and wise new friends...


Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780648558804
Publisher: James Duncan Connolly
Publication date: 05/28/2019
Series: Department of Truth Trilogy , #1
Edition description: This Is the First Book of the Department of Truth Trilogy, Followed by Expectations of Happiness and ed.
Pages: 240
Product dimensions: 5.50(w) x 8.50(h) x 0.55(d)
Age Range: 13 - 18 Years

About the Author

James Duncan Connolly is an Australian writer and artist/ painter of Irish descent. He grew up in a Christian family, but as a young man his quest for knowledge and understanding of the meaning of life and the spirit, led him towards the Bahá'í Faith and has been a member of the Bahá'í community since then.
His driving interest has been the nature of the human creature, and this life. It has led him to many sources from psychology to history to religious texts. He also believes in the wisdom of nature and in human inner vision as great sources of joy and understanding; but believes that only by living life can anyone really hold knowledge. His writing and art are greatly influenced by his Faith and life experiences, and those of humanity.
Although he has been writing philosophical realisations and poetry, under the acronym JDC for a number of years, this is his first publication, and his debut novel; and the first of a trilogy.

Read an Excerpt

The Department of Truth


By James D Connolly, Lubna Siddiqi

Balboa Press

Copyright © 2015 James D Connolly
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4525-2894-6



CHAPTER 1

The Talisman


HE WOKE. "What the hell happened?" He could only make out a bright light, and his mind was as fuzzy as his vision. Just then a fly landed on his nose and he lashed out, but he only hit himself. The shock of it woke him more, and now he recognised a familiar smell. It was grass, and he realised that the bright light was the sun. His mind followed his eyes back into focus and he found himself on his back in the grass.

"God! That thing packs a punch!" he pronounced to himself. He sat himself up very slowly and looked down at it, rubbing away the dirt. Suddenly, he remembered there were words too. "What the hell were they?" he asked himself. "Depart ... department ... department of something or other," he strained, trying to regather it. "That's it!" he pronounced triumphantly, "The Department of Truth!"

"What the bloody hell's that?!" With that, he faded out and fell back on the ground, unconscious again.


WHEN HE WOKE AGAIN IT WAS NIGHT, and he came awake more quickly this time. He sat up slowly, looked down at it, and remembered how the jolt from it had hit him hard. "Bloody thing!" he cursed. He looked at it with a concerned and questioning face. He remembered he was digging a posthole for a new fence. He had been on his knees scooping out the last lot of soil with both hands when he had felt what he thought was a rock. Then he had felt a big jolt through his arm and shoulder, then bright lights and those words. He looked down at it again with more concern and many questions.

He thought he should get up, but he wasn't sure if he could. He sat himself up and straightened his back. He sat there until he felt solid enough to stand, and when he did, it was very tentatively. He was a bit wobbly when he started to walk, but gained a steadier stride as he went.

In a short time, he reached the top of a small rise, and his neighbour's lights came into view. One of his new neighbours noticed him come up out of the gully. They were having a barbecue with friends. Their house backed partly onto his small paddock. They had moved in about two months ago. The man and his wife had come over to introduce themselves and promised to invite him to dinner some time.

"Are you a 'well, Mister Jack?" his neighbour called, a little concerned by Jack's still slightly unsteady gait.

"Yeah, I'm a 'well mate," Jack answered dryly, and waved that "no worries" wave, and kept on walking towards his back door. The sensor light came on as he neared the house. The last thing Jack needed right now was to get into a friendly conversation with someone who couldn't even speak English. They had not invited him to dinner like they said they would. "And now they want to talk to me," he murmured to himself.

Jack couldn't even remember their names. He even had a hard time pronouncing them. When they were introducing themselves, he had tried twice with the wife's name, and three times with the husband's. He stopped at that because he was too embarrassed to try again. He didn't want to be mates with this mob. Not that he had anything against foreign people; he just didn't want the awkward work of getting to know them. He just wanted his space. He wanted to get things done around the place, without having to feel like he should talk with them if he saw them. As well as that, he thought he didn't want to be getting close to people when you didn't know what was inside them. He had found very strange people not far under the surface sometimes. Jack just didn't want the work or the risk.

He had made it through the back door and was in the kitchen drinking some water, hoping it would help. He walked over to the couch and flopped down. He was tired from all the work he had done and feeling very weak from his experience. It was a welcome relief to lie down. Then the words came back at him: 'The Department of Truth. They just sounded over and over again in his mind. They sounded until he was sick of them, but he couldn't let them go. It was like they reached down to old questions deep inside him; questions he had long since given up on. He thought about going to the doctor for a few seconds, and then switched back again. He didn't realise how important the truth was to him. There was every kind of lie all about him; it was hard to believe in anyone or anything anymore. "No way could it mean anything," he said aloud, trying to get past it.

He jumped up to grab an orange juice, but also to shake off those words. He thought the orange juice would help his system and he would see the doctor tomorrow, just in case. He walked back into the lounge and turned on the television. As it came on, he smiled and said, "Ahhh! The footy! Now you're talkin'." He sat on the couch with his back on the arm and his feet up. As he took a swig of his drink, he looked down at 'that damned thing' again with that same intense questioning look. He hadn't let go of it since he woke up in the grass. His tiredness and the football eventually took him away from his thoughts, and he sighed deeply as he settled lower in his seat.


HE WOKE PARTLY. He could feel pain. It hurt, and he realized his lack of foresight. "Damn!" he yelled out loud, as he became fully awake. He couldn't believe he had been stupid enough to leave it to get him again. It dug deep and took a grip on his ribs. It pulled so hard on his chest, he thought it was going to split him into two. He grabbed at it, but it was a useless effort. It was calling the shots now. "What was I thinking?!" He winced, as he doubled up, his face contorting. It was digging in deeper now, and the pain was getting extremely intense. "God!" he screamed. All he could do was breath out and keep breathing out. He thought he was going to pass out, when suddenly the pain was gone. At the same moment, he found himself flying down an endless tunnel of light.

Different colours came and went. They were colours he had seen before, but they were amazingly vibrant and almost see through. There was something assuring about his surroundings, and it was more than a simple release from the pain he had endured. It was like he was held in a big, comforting hug. He started to relax more and enjoy the colours, when he realised he had been here before. This was where he heard those words that were so intensely stamped on his mind.

As he travelled, he relaxed more and more. And as he did, the speed would increase to the same level. He began really enjoying the speed, the colours and the feeling as the tunnel's peaks, troughs and turns became more noticeable. It was becoming like a roller coaster ride. Then all of a sudden, it shot him into a blur of white light, at unbelievable speed, and he yelled "Whooohaaahh!" as it bore him away.

CHAPTER 2

Giants and Henchmen


JACK WOKE ON HIS FEET, and then lost them as a tremor hit the ground he was standing on. The ground was hard and rocky and as he picked himself up, he felt some pain, but he was more focused on where he had found himself. He was not at home this time. He was most definitely somewhere else. "We're not in Muckadilla any more, Jacko!" he said to himself, looking around. Then he looked down as he realised that this thing embedded in his chest had brought him here.

He seemed to be in a large high walled, blind gorge, and there was only barren, red rock everywhere he looked. Jack hoped like hell he was dreaming, but it was like no dream he ever had, and he said out loud, "Well, I'm here, so I had better take a look around."

Jack headed for higher ground, and when he finally got there, he saw he was on the edge of a huge crater. It was dug out of the flat, red ground. There were huge piles of rocks all around it. He looked to the nearest mound of rocks, and decided that if he climbed up, he would have a better vantage point. It was hard going because the loose soil and rocks were not stable. When he reached the top, his eyes widened. All he could see, as far as the eye could see, were more craters dug into the flat, red earth; each surrounded by mounds.

As he turned around to take it all in, some vegetation grabbed his eye. Far away, in the distance, there was a tree-laden hill that seemed to project out of one of the craters. He could also just make out a crunching sound that seemed to come from the same place. It seemed to be the only place to go in the lifeless vista before him, so shaking his head at his predicament, he headed down the mound and off towards the only sign of life.


JACK HAD BEEN WALKING FOR WHAT SEEMED TO BE A DAY, yet the sun had hardly changed its position, and he finally came to the realisation that there wasn't going to be a night. Along the way, he had been looking for a place to rest out of the sun, but there hadn't been one. "A place where it's always day, and no cool places," he mused in thought. "This ain't a happy place," he said out loud, chuckling a bit.

Jack had climbed up on a few mounds as he went along, to check his bearings. He was now quite disoriented from the heat and knew that soon he wouldn't have the energy to climb again. He knew it was time for a final check, so he slowly started to climb the nearest mound. He made it to the top and looked for the crater he was heading for, and found it where he thought it would be. His bearings were good, which lifted his spirits, and he smiled. Then, his smile made way to a frown as he looked intently towards his goal.

He narrowed his eyes to focus better. He looked in disbelief as it seemed that the tree laden hill was in fact a very rough head of hair. "He's got to be huge!" Jack blurted out. He just stood there awhile making sure he was not seeing things. He had no idea what to do and his mind was not very lucid. He stood there in a daze for a short time, but eventually came to a decision. Fear wasn't an issue when it came to survival. Jack knew he had no choice. "The devil or the deep blue sea," he thought, as he steeled himself and set off towards the giant.


JACK WAS WONDERING IF THIS WAS HELL and maybe he was dead. Even if he was still alive, he wasn't hopeful. He was going to die from lack of water, or from injuries sustained from a giant stomping him out of existence. He began to laugh out loud at his own stupidity, and this crazy predicament. The lack of water made him a little sillier.

He was about a kilometre away from the giant, when it turned to look at him. Jack froze. Fear fed his muscles. He tensed, but didn't run. Now he knew what it was like to be a kangaroo caught in a truck's headlights. Questions ran though his mind: "Do I run? Which way do I run? Maybe he doesn't see me?" Through his fear, Jack could make out the giant's mouth moving.

"I said, it's always nice to have visitors," repeated the giant, in the tones of a happy British aristocrat. The giant was not sure why Jack was not responding. He watched Jack intently and asked, "Are you feeling alright my diminutive friend?"

Jack seemed to snap out of it, and realised the giant might be okay. "I was a bit concerned about how friendly you might be?"

"You will have to speak up my little friend. I'm afraid I can't hear your little voice well, from this distance," informed the giant.

"I was just a bit concerned about your level of friendliness," shouted Jack.

"Ahhh yes! Many people tell me I am a bit too forward and friendly at first. I suppose that's because I get so few visitors," answered the giant.

Jack laughed out loud in amusement and relief. "Don't concern yourself, I find it refreshing, old chap," Jack shouted back, mimicking the giant's well educated and refined talk.

"Ahh. That's splendid!" answered the giant, sounding absolutely thrilled. "When you get here we will have to have some refreshments."

"You bet we will, big fella," thought Jack as he nodded to the giant in an exaggerated fashion. Jack was as painfully parched, and it was a wonder he could say anything at all. His conscious control was fading in and out now, but he started to relax a little as he continued on towards the giant. He walked a little further, and then Jack fell down.


"IT SEEMS YOU FELL DOWN OLD CHAP," were the first words Jack heard on waking. "Yeah, tell me about it. Seems like I'm making a habit of it lately," said Jack groggily. He was lying in a small, shallow, pool of water in the giant's shadow. His head was lying on the sand at the side, with his body submerged in the pool. After a while, Jack lifted himself up, so that he was sitting up in the large puddle. He scooped some water up a few times over his head, letting it flow down his hair and face, and onto his neck and shoulders. At the same time, a little man rushed out of the shadows, left a drink of water, and with a scowl retreated back to the deeper shadows made by the giant.

The water was in a golden cup. Like a golden wine glass with jewels all around its base, and up its stem. Jack was only interested in its contents right now, and he gulped away at the water. When he had finished, the little man rushed out again. He whipped the cup from Jack's hands, and darted back into the deeper shadows once more.

"I believe our friend will require some more, Greaves. Fill him up until he's had enough. There's a good chap," requested the giant. "Don't mind young Greaves. I should think that his parents were quite remiss in teaching him good manners," said the giant in apology. The giant then continued on jovially, "At least, he was a good chap and went out to get you."

Jack looked at Greaves and said, "Thanks mate."

"He was reluctant though," continued the giant, "so, I had to threaten to take away his week's earnings. That got him on the job."

The giant chuckled at the memory, while under his waistcoat his giant belly jiggled. "Fear is his only currency. Sad really, when there is so much treasure." As the giant said it, he waved his right arm and moved aside a little to present Jack with a view of huge piles of gold, silver and jewels. They were all placed neatly, sorted into type and size. There were gold and silver nuggets large and small, and gems of all sizes and colours. In the middle of it all, there was a nugget of gold that was the size of a house. The piles were spread out over an area, the size of a football field. At first, Jack was taken by the amazing sight. Then, he looked a bit confused. There were no diggings, miners or machinery.

"How did you get all this?" asked Jack.

"You'd be surprised what's in a mountain, old boy," said the giant confidently. "It took a hell of a lot of chewing, I can tell you. But certainly worth the effort, don't you think."

"You ate a mountain?!" asked Jack with a stupid look on his face.

"That's not completely accurate. Actually, I have eaten quite a few, if you look about."

"So you ate all these mountains, for treasure?!" asked Jack with that same stupid look on his face.

"Wish I could take credit for all of them, but there were others like me."

"So, you belonged to a race of mountain eaters?" asked Jack.

"Well, that's not completely accurate either. You see, my kind like eating things and finding treasure in them; so we eat anything really. First, we ate the trees, then the soil, then the rivers and lakes, and it was only when these were all finished that we had to steel ourselves and bravely eat the mountains. It has been quite a journey for us," said the giant with a sad but proud sigh.

Jack just stared at the giant in disbelief. It just defied any kind of common sense. All those things were needed to sustain life, and he asked the giant, "How does the rock sustain you?"

"The rock? Hardly! No sustenance in that. It's the thrill of success, of course! And I eat some of my treasure, because all of us need to enjoy the fruits of our labour."

"So, you can live without water?"

"Of course not old boy; this sun would suck you dry, quick smart. Though I must admit, I need less of it than some!" answered the giant, looking down at the wound tight little man in his shadow. Greaves grunted, expired air and mumbled something to himself, "He comes in every time. Easy fishing here old boy," the giant said with a small guffaw and a wink. Greaves kicked at some rocks as he proffered another cupful of water to Jack. Jack thanked Greaves, and tried not to laugh.

"Where do you get your water?" asked Jack.

"Well, the water caravan of course. I trade gems and gold with the water traders for it. I had to deal with them in the end. Grubby lot and not at all educated, but they provide a useful service."


(Continues...)

Excerpted from The Department of Truth by James D Connolly, Lubna Siddiqi. Copyright © 2015 James D Connolly. Excerpted by permission of Balboa Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Table of Contents

Contents

Testimonials, vii,
Acknowledgements, ix,
Preface, xi,
SEARCH: The Journey, 1,
The Talisman, 3,
Giants and Henchmen, 7,
The Man Who Slept On His Saddle, 21,
The Just Queen, 33,
The Beasts of Law, 48,
The Spirit Scientists, 57,
The Blue and The Red, 74,
Woman of The Green, 88,
The Awakening, 104,
GROWTH: The Three Keys, 107,
The Calling, 109,
The Mission, 115,
The Sojourn, 129,
The Silver Tree, 139,
Pilgrimage, 149,
SERVICE: The Four Doorways, 157,
Home, 159,
The First Doorway, 166,
The Second Doorway, 180,
The Third Doorway, 195,
The Fourth Doorway, 206,
A New Civilisation, 217,
A Brief Overview of My Next Two Books, 221,
About the Author, 223,
Some Bahá'i Quotes, 225,
Recommended Links, 227,

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